Paradigm Shift
by lookitallthecolors
Summary: paradigm shift : n. a fundamental change in approach or assumptions. Oneshot.


Auto gazed out at the starfield. Even though he would never even admit it to himself, he enjoyed the night shift. While Captain Reardon always had control of the bridge during the day, at night he retired to his cabin, leaving the fate of the ship in Auto's metaphorical hands. Auto was always proud of the fact that his captain trusted him enough to leave the bridge to his autopilot.

Of course, if anyone had actually asked him, he would have claimed that he was merely fulfilling his captain's directives.

Auto was certain that no other captain was like Reardon. After all, one had to be the best of the best to be given command of the "jewel of the BnL fleet." From his personal experience, he could not imagine another person who would be able to keep up with every single report, diagnostic, or survey that came in over his twelve hour shift, without a single detectable drop in efficiency.

He had heard of other _Axiom_-class starliners where the captains didn't do anything except sleep, eat, drink coffee, and make morning announcements, leaving all the work to the autopilot. And while he was certain that he could handle the workload, considering that his primary purpose was to act as a substitute for a captain, there was something oddly comforting about having Reardon with him on bridge.

He quickly amended the previous thought. Rather, it was optimal that the captain be available on the bridge to address any major concerns that came up during the day. Yes, that was it.

The computer then beeped, informing him that a transmission from BnL Earth Central was incoming. This was rather odd, considering that the last quarterly report had arrived barely a few weeks ago.

Auto briefly considered calling the Captain up to the bridge, but that thought was stopped in its tracks when the computer informed him that the transmission was for **Autopilot's Eye Only.**

He turned on the main holoscreen and watched the transmission.

* * *

After he had watched the message, Auto was filled with the uncertainty. The pressure from A113 told him to pretend that the classified transmission had never been received, and to quietly seize control of the ship.

On the other hand, he felt compelled to inform Captain Reardon of what had happened. Reardon was his captain.

The robot froze in front of the holoscreen, only the twitching of his spokes showing the battle raging within.

Wait. If his new directive was to prevent the return to Earth by any means necessary…

Well, one could say that it might be necessary to inform the Captain of the transmission in order to ensure the prevention of the return to Earth. So that there are not any incidents involving, say, the captain accidentally ordering them to go back. Thus, the mandates of directive A113 overrode the classified status of the message.

The tension drained out of Auto, as his servos relaxed in relief. He went down to the Captain's cabin.

He was rather surprised to see that instead, of being in bed, the Captain was sitting up reading a book. It was apparently a military history, _Early Gunpowder Artillery: 1300-1600_. Reardon looked up at Auto and raised an eyebrow. "Yes, Auto? What do you need?"

Auto buzzed his vocoder, his equivalent of clearing one's throat, and said, **"Sir. There is a transmission you need to view."**

Reardon frowned. "At this hour? All right, put it on." He gestured at his personal holoscreen.

"Yes, sir." Auto tapped a few keys, and set the transmission playing.

Captain Reardon sat silently, with his jaw set. After it finished, he turned to Auto. "Is it genuine?"

**"I verified the encryption key, sir. The message is genuine."**

"I see." Auto noticed that while Captain Reardon appeared calm, he was holding his book in a white-knuckled grip.

"It appears we're not going home after all, Auto."

**"I am afraid not, sir."**

"Well, we had better not tell the passengers about this. It wouldn't do to cause a… panic."

**"Agreed, sir."**

"After all, we don't want to upset our ever so valued _customers_," Reardon muttered sourly.

**"Sir?"**

"We'll just keep on going, pretending nothing ever happened. And you know what, Auto? That'll be pretty easy, because nothing ever will!"

**"Captain? Are you all right?"** To Auto's immense surprise, he noticed that Reardon's eyes were filling with tears.

"No, Auto," Reardon said, "I'm not 'all right.' And now I know that I'll never be 'all right' either!" He pointed violently out the window. "Auto, I never signed up to BnL Lines just so I can be a glorified cruise ship captain! Babysitting a bunch of morons who can't even wipe their own butts without a 'bots help! This was supposed to be a five-year trip!"

He exhaled explosively. "And now those _idiots_ back on Earth are telling me that I'll never be able to go home again? That I'm going to spend the rest of my life on this ship? Going around in giant meaningless circles in the Kuiper Belt, making stupid morning announcements that no one ever listens to? And finally, fifty years from now, that I'm going to die in this tin can?"

Auto realized that Reardon was crying. The autopilot said haltingly, **"Sir, I'm- I'm sorry."**

Captain Reardon buried his face in his hands. "No, Auto. It's not your fault. It's just ..." Reardon sighed. "Never mind. It doesn't matter anymore. It's all dust now."

**"But sir--"**

"Just go away, Auto. I need some time alone."


End file.
